


Hannibal: I’m in Love With a Monster

by DragonSlayer2526



Series: Hannibal: Loving a Monster [3]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #ClannibalForever, BAMF Clarice Starling, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Blood and Violence, Cannibalism, Cannibalistic Thoughts, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Clarice Starling-freedom, F/M, Hannibal Lecter is a Cannibal, Love Confessions, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Protective Hannibal Lecter, Psychological Trauma, Serial Killers, Sexual Tension, Slow build Hannibal Lecter/Clarice Starling, Strong Female Characters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-14 10:06:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17506559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonSlayer2526/pseuds/DragonSlayer2526
Summary: Clarice is in Florence with Hannibal Lecter and she soon has to come to terms with her feelings for him, and what she should do...#ClannibalForever





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Roza_VA_Belikov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roza_VA_Belikov/gifts), [DoctorWhoohWrotcoD](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DoctorWhoohWrotcoD/gifts), [Devana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devana/gifts), [ForTheLoveOfVulcan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForTheLoveOfVulcan/gifts), [djurmel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/djurmel/gifts), [Seashell131](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seashell131/gifts), [Kyukitsune](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kyukitsune/gifts), [atamira](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atamira/gifts), [xLonelyDreamerx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xLonelyDreamerx/gifts), [Sp116276](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sp116276/gifts), [horrorshowkezia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/horrorshowkezia/gifts), [zozozo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zozozo/gifts), [foreverdreaming22](https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverdreaming22/gifts), [Lady_persephone_black](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_persephone_black/gifts), [IntrovertedGirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/IntrovertedGirl/gifts), [LoreDream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoreDream/gifts), [apear55](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apear55/gifts), [EPICNESSQUEEN21](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EPICNESSQUEEN21/gifts), [Newgurl312](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Newgurl312/gifts), [LooneySlytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LooneySlytherin/gifts), [Professional Guest](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Professional+Guest), [Neverland_123](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neverland_123/gifts), [teresamr526](https://archiveofourown.org/users/teresamr526/gifts).



> I am on a roll! xD
> 
> Clarice Starling is based on the appearance of Sophia Turner who played Sansa Stark and Jean Grey.

**Prologue**

Clarice slowly regained consciousness, her eyes blinking open and she slowly sat up. She groaned softly as she felt fatigue, dizziness, and headache, her hand reached up and gently cupped her forehead.

"Ow, ow, ow..." Clarice hissed out.

She lowered her hand and blinked, multiple times when she saw that she wasn't in a familiar room.

It looked really...French....and expensive.

Clarice's eyes moved to the window and through the semi-transparent curtain, she saw a familiar shape.

"...Oh, shit..." The young woman said as she, as quickly as she could with her dizziness and headache, got out of the bed and went to the window. She opened the curtains and felt all the blood drain from her face when she saw the Eiffel tower standing tauntingly in her view. "...Oh my God, how did I get here?!"

"Ah, I see that you're awake...and I don't think you should be opening the curtain dressed like that."

Clarice spun around when she heard that familiar, raspy voice and her fast movement sent a new wave of dizziness through her, she grabbed the back of a chair and leaned heavily against it. Standing in the now open doorway was Hannibal Lecter who was staring at her with an amused look on his face.

"You...I have a feeling that you had something to do with this?" Clarice gritted out before she looked down to see that she was wearing a short nightgown that was of a burgundy color, it was made from silk and lace. "Did you change my clothes?"

"I kept my eyes on your face the entire time." Hannibal said.

"...You're lucky that's believable." Clarice said. "Now...why am I here and how did I get here?"

"You got on a plane and I wanted to bring you."

"....I wouldn't have gotten on the plane with the Chesapeake Ripper." Clarice snapped. "I was consciousness, wasn't I? OhmyGod, did you use chloroform?"

"Ah, so you knew who I am?" Hannibal asked. "Yes, I remembered our first meeting. The stewardess thought you were very tired because of the sleeping pills that you took, you don't like flying."

"Yes...and when I get over the after effects of the chloroform, I'm going to kill you. I wished you did use that on me."

"For how long?" He asked, not responding to her threat. The man had the nerve to smile at her like it had amused him.

She wasn't joking!

"Since Will was in the loony bin." Clarice said. "I figured it out that you were the one who called the Hobbs and warned Garret that we were coming but I was smart enough to keep it to myself."

"Clever girl." Hannibal said, pride shone in his eyes.

"...I'm going to take a guess and say that you're on the run, probably from Jack and the gang because they learned who you are. Most likely with Will's help. There was probably a fight that made you leave quickly." Clarice said, eyeballing the man. "And you took me because it wouldn't look suspicious at all."

Hannibal just smiled and inclined his head towards her, he wouldn't tell her what had happened to Jack and Will. At least not yet, she was already angry at him for using the chloroform and bring her here but in time she would lose that anger.

At least he hoped.

"Not to change the subject," Hannibal started to say, chuckling when Clarice shot him an annoyed look. "But when I was going through your house while you slept, I noticed that you had many black hair dye." He watched as Clarice's posture became rigid. "Black isn't your natural hair color, right? You dye it. What color was it before you dyed it black, my dear?"

Clarice silently stared at him before she sighed and looked away, "Red."

"Who had the red hair?"

"My mother." She said then she looked at him. "You're not my therapist anymore, Dr. Lecter, you're my kidnapper now." 

Hannibal smiled and walked closer to her, Clarice tensed and flattened herself against the wall behind the chair. Her blue gaze never once leaving the man walking fluidly towards her. He gently placed a finger under her chin and tilted her head back.

"That doesn't mean that I don't want to know you better." Hannibal said. "It's best if you return to being a redhead, my dear, we don't want our trip to end soon. And no one knew of your natural hair color after all."

Clarice only glowered at him but that confirmed his statement, everyone thought that black was her natural hair color.

He bent over and placed a kiss onto her cheek, "Put a robe on and come eat breakfast. Then take a shower and remove the dye and get dressed, we will go sightseeing."

"...Fine." Clarice gritted out and when Hannibal stepped away from her, she walked around him and grabbed said robe and stormed out of the bedroom as she put it on.

That would explain her fiery temper, Hannibal mused to himself. Oh, he was going to enjoy this time with her. He knew without a doubt that Clarice would never bore him and will always surprise him.

He'll wait to tell her that they are married until after she has eaten and taken a shower...


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> second chapter for part 3! Yay!!

**Antipasto Teaser**

**PARIS STREETS - NIGHT**

A figure on a motorcycle drives through a darkened street. The gloved hand as it works the throttle, and the drone pitches higher as the bike changes gear. The motorcycle's front wheel as it splashes through the puddle in which they were reflected.

The reflective black visor of the bike's rider, figures writhe within the margins of the glass. It rides toward an immense pair of gates, Rodin's Gates of Hell, the sculpted bodies, caught in torment, adorning each side.

The gates fill the visor, and as the rider gets closer, the gates begin to open. The bike speeds through the gates, sending the tortured figures into a new frenzy, and then he is through and the reflection is now the frenzy of a Paris night street.  
  
The motorcycle, a Triumph Bonneville, swerves and cuts between two cars like a knife through butter. The Bonneville dances between lanes as the rider throws his weight from side to side. His skill and prowess as he owns the road.

The reflective visor of his helmet, the world beyond zooming by, reflected in the black glass. His gloved hands on the throttle; his foot as it kicks the powerful bike through the gears.

The Bonneville brakes to a sudden halt. The rider gets off. Dressed in Belstaff. He removes the helmet. The rider is revealed to be Hannibal Lecter. He has looser, longer hair; a little rougher; a man free of responsibilities.

\---------------------  
  
Pale yellow liquid fizzes into a glass flute. A hand takes the champagne and moves from a bar, and a party crowd stood under a banner that read: "Bon Voyage, Roman Fell". It is a well-heeled leaving party for Dr. Roman Fell, a tall, lean man of 50, sporting a fine academic's beard. He holds court in the center of the room. He loves the attention of a crowd of young acolytes and well-wishers.

Hannibal's eyes fixed are on Roman Fell, he moves lithely through the crowd, bodies between him and his target, he is there and then gone, like a tiger moving through the long grass. His eyes never leaving his prey. Appraising, calculating. A beautiful woman crosses his path, makes eye contact. Hannibal returns it. Raises his glass. She smiles, but Hannibal inclines his head and passes on the invitation to linger. Steps around her.  
  
Antony Dimmond, 40s, tall, lean, somewhat louche-looking, his clothes expensive, but old and worn, darts suddenly at a waitress with a tray of champagne, snaffles two glasses. He tosses one back quickly, then notices Hannibal noticing.  
  
Antony said in regards to his two glasses, "It's a double-fisted kind of bash. Antony Dimmond. I'd offer a hand, but--" He trailed off.  
  
"It's a double-fisted kind of bash." Hannibal said.  
  
"Do you know Roman well?" Antony asked Dimmond clocks Hannibal's eyes wandering back toward Dr. Fell amid a circle of people. "You were staring with the thinly veiled disdain of a man who does. I was his TA at Cambridge. He was insufferable even then." Dimmond finishes the second flute of champagne and puts it on a passing tray. Grabs two more and hands Hannibal one of them. "Have you read his books? They're terrible. You know they're terrible, but you're too polite to say. Blink if you agree." He added off his blink. "See." Dimmond pulls a weathered paperback from his coat pocket. "That doesn't stop him squatting over a keyboard and depositing a fresh one every six to eight months. It has taken me six to eight months to write one line."  
  
"Why?" Hannibal asked, barely concealing his annoyance. He had made plans with his lovely travel companion who was waiting for him back at their hotel, he had promised to show her that Parisian nightlife. 

Dimmond stares at Hannibal a moment, as if the answer is abundantly clear, then he answered, "Poetry is hard. Was too hard for Roman. Easier for him to slide into academia and dissect the efforts of others than stand by his own words."  
  
"One can appreciate another's words without dissecting them. Though, on occasion, dissection is the only thing that will do." Hannibal's glance in Dr. Fell's direction...  
  
\---------------------------------

Dr. Roman Fell walks home, merrily drunk, excited by the prospect of his new adventure. Behind him, our Bonneville idles slowly across the street. As Hannibal is putting on his helmet, "Bonsoir."  
  
"Bonsoir." The man greeted.

Dr. Fell is reflected in the black maw of Hannibal's visor as Hannibal slowly follows him, then passes him by. Hannibal's Bonneville speeds away.

\--------------------------------

Dr. Fell enters his building and heads up the stairs. He stops short when he sees Hannibal standing outside his door.  
  
"Bonsoir." Hannibal greeted.  
  
Dr. Fell returned the greeted, confused, "Bonsoir?"

\--------------------------------

Blood red wine splashes up the sides of a glass. Hands place an opera record on a turntable.  
  
Butter melts in a pan. Liver is tossed in with a sizzle, a dash of brandy is added and flares into flame.

Hannibal's knife and fork as it slices through the liver on his plate. A blush of blood stains the juices on the plate. He brings it to his lips. Chews.

Delicious.

The handle turns and it opens toward and a stylishly-dressed woman enters.  
  
Mrs. Fell hears the opera and smiles. Moves toward the dining room. She halts in the doorway, her confusion visible on her face.  
  
Hannibal Lecter sits at the table, linen and cutlery immaculately placed. Savoring his food, a nice Bordeaux and the music.

Hannibal smiles up at her as he greets her, "Bonsoir."

**PARISIAN HOTEL-NIGHT**

A young woman with red hair and icy blue eyes stood in front of a hotel, she was wearing a black leather jacket over a heather grey T-shirt, dark denim jeans and black high heeled booties with a thick heel. Her hair is loose and flows over her shoulders in red waves to her waist, long and freshly brushed it contrasts nicely with her pale skin. Her bright blue eyes glittered deep sapphire in the light, they were scanning the street before her as she waited for Hannibal to return from whatever he had to do.

Clarice Starling ran her fingers through her hair, grimacing at the color. It had been years since she had last seen her natural hair color and she wasn't used to it, it reminded her of her mother. Her blue eyes came from her father, he had blonde hair.

She had dyed it black because red and blonde were colors that brought back painful memories for her.

Maybe that's why she never got along with Freddie, her hair reminded Clarice of her childhood and she was lashing out.

She looked up when she heard the rumble of a motorcycle, she took a step back when it came to a stop in front of her. She eyed the figure as they kicked the stand down and stood up, removing their helmet to reveal a very familiar face.

"...Since when did you know how to drive a motorcycle?" Clarice asked. "And when did you have time to get one?"

Hannibal smirked at her and said, "I have known how to ride one for years and as for when I did have time to get one: I got it while you were taking your nap after our little sightseeing trip...Red looks very good on you."

Clarice gave him a peeved look and said, "You already told me that, remember? When I first came out of the bathroom after I had stripped the black dye from it." He had even gone far enough to grab a fistful of her hair and take a deep breath from it, her had pulled her closer to him. Their bodies becoming flushed together to the point where she no longer knew where hers end and his began.

She always thought that he had a scent kink and that action had confirmed it. 

And she acted like his action didn't bother her.

"Are you ready to go?"

"....Motorcycles don't look safe." Clarice hedged as she eyed said vehicle. "Not much protection between me and the road."

"I won't let any harm come to you, my dear Clarice." Hannibal said as he sat back down on the seat, kicking the stand up and offering her a second helmet that she didn't see at all.

She stared at him silently before she shrugged and said, "Oh, what the hell...you only live once." She zipped up her jacket, took the helmet from him after she pulled her hair back into a messy braid and climbed onto the motorcycle behind him, her thighs resting against him and she put her helmet on. Clarice wrapped her arms around his waist as he started the bike though she tightened her hold on him when he speed off.

This was really surreal for her, she was riding on the back of a motorcycle with a serial killer Cannibal and she felt safe. It just didn't make sense and she had buried _that_ emotion when she had learned about it that day.

With her heart as well because it had terrible taste in men.

Clarice ignored how Hannibal felt against her, his muscles flexing underneath her hands and against her inner thighs.

Oh God, she was going to take a cold shower when she got back or jump into the river. Maybe that'll calm down her heart and traitorous body...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swooned when I saw Hannibal looking like that and on a motorcycle to boot? So spoiled!
> 
> And by that emotion, she means 'love' after she had learned the Hannibal had slept with Alana after giving her a really hot kiss, she had buried it and her heart deep inside her mind and refused to acknowledge it.
> 
> But that's going to change in this story....spoiler alert btw ;D


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarice's dress and jewelry https://www.promgirl.com/shop/dresses/viewitem-PD1632818 but it's emerald green because I have noticed that color goes beautifully with red hair and Hannibal would pick a lovely dress for her.
> 
> Bedelia's scenes are replaced with Clarice and I added more to it since it's Clarice and we all know how she is xD

**Antipasto Part 1**

**HANNIBAL LECTER'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT (FLASHBACK)**

_A large silver dome covers a sizeable serving platter that is moving through a darkened room until, finally, the reflection of Abel Gideon bows across its surface. He sits at the beautifully-appointed table; he has a drip in one arm and a chest monitor. Gideon is now missing both legs at the thigh._

_The silver dome turns and Gideon watches his reflection slide down the length of the platter. The platter is lifted from the sidecar and placed in the middle of the dinner table. The large silver dome rises off the platter as if by unseen hands floating somewhere in the darkness. Underneath the dome and further unveiled by a silky cloud of smoke: Gideon's leg. From hip to ankle, beautifully roasted with sugar cane quills sticking out of the flesh in a pleasing grid pattern. It's mounted on a plank, like a long whole ham._  
  
_"You really are the Devil. Certainly seem to enjoy it. You have a click in your hoof." Gideon said._  
  
_Hannibal appears to materialize out of the thinning mist rising off the bed of smoking sprigs of thyme._  
  
_"The Devil has been a yoke on the neck of humanity since we first began to think and dream." Hannibal said. "I for a much shorter time."_

 _Gideon takes a deep, appreciative breathe as he said, "You admit the yoke." He paused then added. "Smells like candy apples. And thyme. You smoked me in thyme."_  
  
_"Smoked. Glazed. Slow-cooked. Served on a sugar cane quill. You will be falling off the bone." Hannibal plucks a sugar cane quill, pulling out a medallion of meat from Gideon's severed leg, like a Popsicle stick, and placing it on his guest's plate._  
  
_"Well, of course." Gideon said. "And with these rarified dishes you so thoughtfully prepare...do we all taste different?"_  
  
_"Everyone has their flavor." Hannibal said._

 _Gideon's eyes narrow, not giving Hannibal the satisfaction of seeing him impressed one way or another. "Cannibalism was standard behavior among our ancestors. Missing link is only missing because we ate him." He said._  
  
_"This isn't cannibalism, Abel. It's only cannibalism if we're equals." Hannibal said._  
  
_"It's only cannibalism if you eat me. But you feel this is just the natural order of things? Everybody gets et?" Gideon said._  
  
_"Be he fat or be he lean." Hannibal said._  
  
_"My last leg standing across the table from me, and I still wrestle with the urges to fight or flee." Gideon said._  
  
_"It's called "terminal restlessness." The body fills with adrenaline and feels compelled to go-go-go." Hannibal said._  
  
_"Go-go-go"? I've already got up and gone. This is posthumous." Gideon said._  
  
_"You're not dead yet, Abel. You still have to eat." Hannibal said._  
  
_"No, I don't." Gideon said as he takes a bite of the medallion of meat before him. It's truly something special, but once again, he doesn't give Hannibal the satisfaction. Hannibal smiles, regardless. Gideon is about to take another bite, but pauses to glance around the beautifully-appointed room and at his devilish host. "At this point, there is absolutely_  
_nothing I have to do. But I don't want to spoil the fairy tale, do I? You and your gingerbread house."_  
  
_"Let it be a fairy tale, then." Hannibal said. "Once upon a time..."_

**HANNIBAL'S FLORENCE APARTMENT-LATE AFTERNOON**

Clarice was sitting on the window seat of her and Hannibal's apartment, drinking coffee, reading a book and watching the people below walk by, going on with their lives and having no idea that there was a predator amongst them.

Her hair shone copper in the sunlight and made her bright blue eyes vibrant. 

She looked away to sip her coffee before she puts the cup down and flips the page of her book. It was called _Taken!_ by Lori Foster. It was a kidnapping romance and she doubted that Hannibal even knew that when he gave it to her.

Clarice wasn't going to tell him that.

Her blue eyes looked up when she heard the door open, she was closing her book when Hannibal walked in holding a garment bag. "I got you something to wear to the party tonight, Mrs. Fell." He said.

She doesn't frown when he calls her that, like she had done before. Clarice had no idea why she was going along with this, well maybe she does but she was in denial and the weather was lovely in Egypt.

"How long have you been waiting to dress me up?" Clarice asked, she had gotten a whole new and expensive wardrobe when they had moved to Florence. Not that she could truly complain because there was no way she would look the part of the wife of a doctor wearing what she normally wears.

Case to point she was wearing a pretty [nighty](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/714YpsRB0UL._UX342_.jpg) that she knew she would have been unable to buy. That and she doesn't like wearing them either, she prefers wearing men's shirts to bed. Hannibal had given her men's dress shirts to wear for bed as well, some of them looked awfully familiar. He had only smirked when she shot him a suspicious look when he handed them to her.

"Since I first saw you in that dress."

Ah, he was talking about when he had taken her to the opera. Wow, he had a really good memory. Clarice couldn't help but be impress because she hadn't been expecting that, her own memory was kind of terrible.

Hannibal placed the bag down and motioned her to it, "Come see it, I want to know what you think."

"You never picked anything that would look terrible on me." Clarice groused as she stood up and walked over to the bag, Hannibal moved behind her and she ignored it. She had gotten used to him standing close to her, touching and smelling her.

They had to pretend to be married after all.

She had no idea why she was going along with it, has Stockholm Syndrome set in yet? She was in a similar situation for it to happen so maybe it had.

Clarice sighed before she unzipped the bag and froze when she saw the emerald green dress, it was off the shoulder and had a train. And it was beautiful, way too good for someone like her.

Two jewelry cases appeared in her line of sight, startling her. She took them from him, she opened one to reveal diamond dangling earrings and the other contained a bracelet. "Thank you, they're beautiful." Clarice carefully placed the cases onto the bed, next to the bag and at the bottom she saw that there was high heels to go with the dress.

Hannibal wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her flushed against him and Clarice didn't fight it.

The Cannibal stifled a smirk when he remembered when he had first touched her, during the beginning of their pretending to be a married couple. She had lashed out with her fist and had spent a few minutes pinned to the wall by Hannibal until she calmed down enough. It had taken her a while to get used to the touches and kisses but he never went further than that, he knew that she had her suspicions about what had happened the night he left America.

That he had probably harmed her mentor and Jack, it would have gone against his method if he hadn't. She knew what became of those who knew who he really was. Hannibal knew that she knew he was behind Beverly's death and hadn't said anything expect to turn her head away when he had tried to kiss her on the lips during the beginning of their new life here.

Clarice had learned how to fight him as a woman and as his 'wife': by denying him affection, denying him kisses and touches. She knew that she wouldn't be able to beat him in a normal fight.

He pressed open-mouth kisses to the smooth skin of her throat and breathed in her unique scent. Evyan skin cream and L’Air du Temps, he had made sure to grab those two things before he took her away. 

And that she had extra too.

Hannibal pulled away and said, "Let's get lunch and do some shopping, we can get ready when we return." He caught a completely different scent wafting from the woman before Clarice nodded her head and walked away from him to get dressed. 

**FLORENCE BALLROOM - NIGHT**

Grand music plays and a dazzlingly-dressed couple as they sweep across the floor in a stylish waltz. It could be a scene from Cinderella's dreams. The glitter of jewelry and champagne. The dash of black tie and ball gowns; the dance floor filled with couples sweeping in graceful patterns across it.

A particularly-elegant couple and stays with them as they swoop across the floor. They waltz around the floor, they move in perfect union, until the music comes to an end and the man dips his partner low to the ground. Hannibal and a stunning Clarice, a prince and his princess. He smiles down at her, both somewhat breathless.

A beat, and then he pulls her back to him.  
  
"Bellissima." Hannibal said.  
  
"Grazie." Clarice said, he has been teaching her how to speak the language. She had taken to French easier than Italian but she had a good teacher, he was very patient with her and had came up with a game to make it fun for her.

For a word that she didn't pronounce right, he would claim a part of her body.

Last time it had been her right hand, Clarice hadn't liked that since it was her dominate hand.

Hannibal snags them both champagne off a passing tray, the Cannibal hands her the glass and she takes it from him. She takes a sip as she moves to stand a bit closer to Hannibal, her arm going through his as she rested her head on his shoulder.  
  
A man's voice from behind them had Clarice removing her head so she and Hannibal could turn around, the Cannibal was annoyed. Clarice touching him without him starting it was rare and he didn't like it when someone interrupted those moments. "Dr. Fell, I hope you translate as well as you waltz." Sogliato is a smooth, oily Italian, late 30s. Impeccably dressed. An academic who wears his ego like armor. Sogliato kisses Clarice's hand and then shakes Hannibal's, the young woman discreetly wipes her hand. Hannibal feels the corner of his mouth twitch, amused by her actions. He stands with Signor and Signora AlbizziI, president of the museum's governing board.  
  
"Our new appointee was confirmed by the board after close questioning." Signor Albizzi said.  
  
"You've examined him in medieval Italian, and I will not deny his language is admirable." Sogliato said.

Clarice watches this exchange, intrigued despite herself and she is aware others in the crowd are observing. As is Sogliato.  
  
"Thank you." Hannibal said.  
  
"For a straniero." Sogliato smiles at the audience now ear-wigging shamelessly. Clarice is watching Hannibal, the way his eyes go dead for a second at the insult before he smiles. Clarice resisted the urge to smack her forehead with her palm and groan instead she took another sip of her wine as she watched the two men. "Are you familiar with the personalities of pre-Renaissance Florence? I think not." He smiled at Clarice who doesn't return it, this idiot was putting himself on Hannibal's menu and she was inclined not to feel bad about it. "Dr. Fell might hold in his hand -- in his non-Italian hand -- a note from Dante Alighieri himself. Would he recognize it? I think not."  
  
Clarice stepped towards the man who keeps signing his death warrant without even realizing it and said with a charming smile, "Professor Sogliato, would you do me the honor of a dance?" Clarice offers her arm still smiling that smile, her head tilting the side causing her hair to slide over her shoulders to hang behind her and exposing her bare shoulders and collarbone. She was keen to lead him away, not that she wanted to but it would go against her nature if she didn't try to save him from his idiocy. Hannibal noting her intention, he was amused by it. Clarice was trying to save a suicidal lamb from him.

As they turn away Hannibal said, causing them to stop, "Allegro mi sembrava Amor tenendo / meo core in mano, e ne le braccia avea / madonna involta in un drappo dormendo. / Poi la svegliava, e d'esto core ardendo / lei paventosa umilmente pascea; / appreso gir lo ne vedea piangendo." Some of those listening applaud loudly at this stirring recital. Sogliato hates it. Clarice smiles at Hannibal, her bright blue eyes sparking in her happiness and pride for him. Hannibal thought she looked even more raditant than before, taking her with him had been the best and wisest choice that he had ever made. He would never regret bring her here. "Dante's first sonnet. It fascinated Cavalcanti. The eating of the heart is a powerful image."

Hannibal doesn't have to be smug; Signor Albizzi and Clarice is smug for him though the young woman manages to hid it from the Italian next to her. Only Hannibal could see it. Off that smugness Sogliato said, "If he's such an expert on Dante, let him lecture on Dante, to the Studiolo. Let him face them." He paused and added. "Extempore."

The reaction of the crowd says this is a strong challenge.

Hannibal merely inclines his head and said, "I'm happy to sing for my supper." He holds Sogliato's gaze. Battle met.  
  
"Professor Sogliato." Clarice said as she looks to Sogliato who takes her hand to dance.  
  
Hannibal smiles at Clarice who doesn't return his smile, she is worried despite the fact that she was trying to keep emotional distant from him.

**HANNIBAL'S FLORENCE APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT**

Evening gathers and the streets empty, the fan pattern of the cobbles shining in a drizzle. Hannibal is on a balcony, his face becomes washed with amber, as if under liquid, flowing and indistinct. Hannibal is framed within the proscenium arch of his balcony, looking out over Florence.  
  
"We are among the palaces built six hundred years ago by the merchant princes, the kingmakers and connivers of Renaissance Florence." Hannibal said.

Clarice reaches for the glass of brandy he is offering her.  
  
"As connivers of modern Florence." Clarice said as she took a sip.

Hannibal looks out over the city, considering its romance, "I've found a peace here that I would preserve. I've killed hardly anybody during our residence."  
  
"You created the vacancy at the Palazzo Capponi by removing the former curator." Clarice said, it didn't take a genius to figure that out. Hannibal wouldn't have been interested in her if she was like everyone else.

She had smelled the familiar coppery scent of blood on him when he had taken her sightseeing at night, he never once kept it from her expect for what had happened back in the States with Will and Jack.

He hadn't really told her what had happened and she knew better than to push him to reveal it to her.  
  
"A simple process requiring a few seconds' work on the old man and a modest outlay for two bags of cement." Hannibal said as he and Clarice headed back into their apartment.  
  
"You no longer have ethical problems, Hannibal. You have aesthetical ones." Clarice said as she motions to her zipper. "Could you? She turns and Hannibal stands behind her and slowly unzips her dress, revealing her bare back. Clarice held it in place with a hand pressed against the front of it.  
  
"Ethics become aesthetics." Hannibal said, his eyes scanning her bare back before looking away. While he wanted her sexually, he knew that she wasn't ready for it, that she was in denial about her true feelings for him.

And he would not push her, he would let her come to terms with them in her own time.

Though he would take pleasure in teasing her, to seeing her blush when he touches her or kiss her neck or earlobe.  
  
"You seem more concerned with making appearances than maintaining them." Clarice said as she moved away from him, looking at him over her shoulder before she carefully removed her dress and undergarments and put a rob on.

Hannibal had looked away when she had done this.  
  
"If this is about my position at the Palazzo, once the path was cleared, I won the job fairly. On my merits." Hannibal said when he heard the robe closing and the sash being tied, he looked back at her.  
  
"Yes, even the most-contentious Florentines can't resist the verse of Dante ringing off frescoed walls." Clarice said with a scoff.  
  
"One contentious Florentine can." Hannibal said.

Clarice's crosses into their bedroom, heading to the bathroom where a large, freestanding cast-iron bath in there. Clarice enters and turns the ornate taps. Water thunders out. She turns to see Hannibal in the doorway.  
  
Clarice eyed him and asked, "Have you given serious thought to eating Professor Sogliato?" Not that she worried about the man, to her he had it coming.  
  
"My killing Sogliato now would not preserve the peace." Hannibal answered with a smile.  
  
Clarice gave him an unamused look and said, "Your peace is without morality."  
  
"Morality doesn't exist. Only morale." Hannibal said amused and adoring her bluntness.  
  
"How you feel today." Clarice said as she gets her bath stuff ready, she even put a stool next to it since Hannibal liked washing her hair. It had been very awkward when he had first done but she eventually got used to it, that and he always kept his eyes on her face when he did it.  
  
Hannibal smiled and asked, "How do you feel today?"  
  
"I still believe I'm in conscious control of my actions. Given your history, that's a good day." Clarice said with a soft, polite smile before she turns around to turn the tap. Once it was full, she turned the tap off and the steaming torrent becomes a drip. The drip sends rings spreading to the deep sides of the bathtub. Clarice lies back and immerses herself under the water, she remains there until her lungs start to burn for air. She sits up and pushes her wet hair out of her face, taking a deep breath. Clarice leaned against the tube and closed her eyes, her head tilting back as she relaxed.

**FLORENCE STREETS - DAY**

An area of artisan food stores, the streets thronged with shoppers. Clarice is among them, moving through the crowd, a distant focus in her eyes. She was wearing low heeled pumps, pencil skirt, white blouse and a cream trench coat over the top. She had twisted her hair and pinned it quickly in place atop her head, adding lipstick, mascara and a little bit of eyeliner to finish her look.

Will wouldn't know it was her if he could see her now.

Her heart clenched at the thought of him, she missed him.  
  
A police constable comes down the street toward her. He smiles, tips his hat to the beautiful lady. She nods, her smile fading the moment he passes. Clarice takes a deep breath before she releases it.  
  
An elegant Florentine fine grocer filled with fine wines and exotic cheeses. Clarice approaches the clerk at the counter, let's see how well Hannibal's lesson were going because she really didn't want to report back to him and have him claim another part of her body as his. "Due bottiglie di Bâtard-Montrachet e li tartufi bianchi, per favore." She said and was happy to see that the clerk understood her.

Ha! Take that Hannibal! Looks like you weren't going to claim a body part today! Clarice silently gloated and fist pumped but she kept the outward smile.

The young woman takes the shopping bag and leaves the store.  
  
Clarice sits on a bench, her shopping bag from Vera dal 1926 next to her. She sits on the platform of a train station. A CCTV camera sits above her, covering the length of the platform. Clarice looks up at it and then back to the train which is about to depart. Its open carriage doors are an invitation...

Will she take it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarice learns about what happened to Will, Jack, Abigail, Freddie and Alana when she returns to the state btw.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Should I start the sixteen year old Clarice story? Just a heads up it'll be short since it'll start when she's sixteen and has to go to Hannibal for therapy, also changing it from her remaining in the orphanage to having Hannibal sort of adopting her but it's still a Clannibal story so don't worry about that!

**Antipasto Part 2**

**FLORENCE TRAIN STATION - DAY**

The hurly-burly of the Paris train about to depart. Lastminute passengers jumping aboard. Conductors make their last calls. Train doors slam shut. The signal lights change. The Paris train pulls out of the station slowly, revealing Clarice still sitting on her bench, watching it go. The CCTV is looking down on Clarice as she looks up at the camera. She is looking anything but optimistic, she is conflicted. Does she regret not getting on when she had the chance? Or is she happy that she didn't? Hoping that her presence with him would prevent him from killing again.

She sighed heavily before she stood up and grabbed her bag and purse, she walked out of the train station. Her heels clicking as she walked, she had to get the rest of her shopping done before she had to return to their apartment. Her hair bounced as she walked, her hips swaying and she ignored the looks of appreciation that she got from men (and some women) as she passed them. She knew that she was considered attractive even though she herself didn't really care, all she cared about was how she did her job and never used her looks to get ahead.

Unlike some of her fellow trainees back home.

Ugh, she's going to be so behind on her studies when she gets back...if she gets back. It'll be hard to get away from Hannibal if she does leave him, he'll be able to find her without her ever realizing it until it was too late.

She shivered at the thought before she gripped her purse tightly until her knuckles turned white, her pace speeding up as if she could leave those thoughts behind.

Maybe she'll be able to do some cleaning before he came back, though she'll make sure not to play her music at full blast so he wouldn't catch her dancing like she had been doing when he had returned to their hotel room back in Paris a few months back.

Her cheeks flushed in embarrassment as she remembered that day...

\--------------------------------------

_Clarice was making their bed as her hips swayed to the song playing on her Ipod, Super Psycho Love by Simon Curtis. She wore a black racer back tank top and black lace cheeky panties, which wasn't her normal sleep wear but she had found it at the bottom of her suitcase and decided to wear it while she hanged out in the hotel room._

_She lifted her arms above her head as her hips moved in a circular motion, a small smiled appearing on her lips as she danced._

_Clarice spun around, her red hair fanning out around her as she moved then she went back to making the bed. It always takes a long time for her to make it bed because she ends up dancing while doing it._

_She loved this song very much, it was fun to dance to but it reminded her of someone...who did it remind her of though? Clarice shrugged her shoulders, she won't let it bother her then at least not until after she was done._

_Clarice grabbed one of the pillows and fluffed up a pillow before she placed the pillow down then she grabbed the other one, her hips swaying to the beat as she placed the pillows in a nice order on their bed._

_She started to sing along with Simon, she was a good singer but she didn't like singing in front of people. Her daddy used to tell her that she should become a professional singer when she gets older but that dream had died when he had. Her friends would try to get her to sing though but she always faked a sore throat or something._

_Unbeknownst to her, the door to their hotel room opened and Hannibal poked his head in. He could hear music playing, he knew Clarice wouldn't leave anything on nor would she leave the door unlocked if she left the room. The Doctor followed the music and stopped when he saw a very interesting sight: FBI Trainee Clarice Starling dancing in nothing but a tank top and panties._

_He wanted to say something but decided against it, after all when would he get to see such a sight again? So he settled in to watch her dance._

_"You're a good dancer, Clarice."_

_Clarice gasped in surprised and immediately turned off her Ipod before she turned to face the man whose voice sent shivers down her spine every time she saw him._

_"Doctor Lecter! When did you get here?!" Clarice squeaked out._

_"Not that long ago, my dear Clarice but I was wondering if you were going to go to greet room service?" He motioned to her outfit._

_Clarice looked down and blushed heavily before she said, "Uh, no...I'll go take a fast shower and get dressed very quickly! Answer the door if I'm not out by then!" Without even waiting for a response from him, she darted into the bathroom and slammed the door shut. Now she knew who the song reminded her and it was the good doctor!_

_Hannibal heard the shower get turned on as he walked into the living room with a smile on his face, he sat on the couch to wait for room service. He would keep what he saw to himself, no one else needed to know what he had seen today._

\---------------------------------

Ugh that had been so embarrassing, she wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Surprisingly, Hannibal had never once brought it up or mentioned it.

To which she was immensely happy about because she didn't need to relive that day, it was because of him not saying is why she was allowing him to touch and kiss her.

_Oh really? So you're not in love with him still?_

Looks like she hadn't killed that tiny spark of hope that lingered in her heart, that hope that she and Hannibal will be together and love each other...at least until she found out who he was and that he had slept with Dr. Bloom.

_Shut it, heart, you do not know of what you speak of! Or did you forget what he had done to Will? He had pinned those murders on him._

Clarice didn't want to become another victim to him, granted she wasn't rude towards him. She had noticed that he didn't like rude people and had a feeling that the people that he had killed were rude to him or they got too close to learning who he was.

_But he would never do that to you._

Clarice savagely beat that thought away, her heart didn't know what it wanted and she was going to listen to her brain from now on. It at least hadn't betrayed her yet. She crossed the street, heading back to their apartment.

She didn't really know that, serial killers normally killed those they claim to love and if Hannibal loved her, she was afraid that would be the end of her and she'll simply disappear off the face of the earth, never to be seen or heard from again.

Until he allows her body to be found...

 **PALAZZO CAPPONI - SALON - DAY**

A darkened room. The music plays as Hannibal works on his speech to the Studiolo, rapt and transported. Lights flickering over his face and hands as he works with slides and a projector.

Hannibal studies paintings and poems, writing notes, struck by their power. Absorbed in a world of beauty and intellect.

Happy.  
  
Hannibal is smiling, happy with life, as he walks down a vaulted corridor, light and shadow alternating on his face as he  passes the windows...   
  
He comes down a wide flight of stone stairs and into the foyer. Bright sunlight shines in from the outside.   
  
Hannibal walks toward it, he becomes a  silhouette, his face going to darkness as the bright sunlight of the doorframe envelopes him.   
  
As Hannibal emerges onto the steps and looks across the busy square, he'll head to their apartment and see if Clarice had finished her shopping. Maybe they can get a late lunch...   
  
"Hello! Bonjour!" a man's voice called to him. 

Hannibal does not realize this is directed at him, but as he heads down the stairs, a hand grabs his arm. For a second his eyes threaten violence, he doesn't want to force Clarice to leave her new life here so he calms down then he turns to see that Antony Dimmond who was sporting stubble and wild hair. He seems absent minded, but his eyes are sharp.  
  
"We met in Paris a few months back. Sorry, didn't mean to startle you, but here I was and then, there you were...I never forget a face..." Antony said.   
  
"Antony Dimmond." Hannibal said. 

Dimmond beams with pleasure, "Nice to be remembered."  
  
"You're hard to forget." Hannibal said.   
  
"What are you doing in Florence?  Are you working with Roman?" Antony asked.   
  
"Dr. Fell?" Hannibal asked.   
  
"I heard he took an appointment at the Capponi library." Antony said. 

Dimmond is astute beneath his manner. Doesn't miss much, it seems.  
  
"Yes, he's the new curator and translator of the Palazzo Capponi." Hannibal said.   
  
"Evidently, the last one eloped with  a woman or someone's money or both." 

Hannibal is cool as he said, "That's the commonly-held belief." He paused. "You just missed Roman."

Dimmond looks crestfallen as he said, "Did I? Was hoping to take the piss."

Hannibal studies Dimmond a moment, then he said, "Spare the piss for the time being. If you're free, my wife and I would love to have you for dinner." Clarice would be put to the test, how would she react with their dinner guest?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> People really need to stop accepting dinner invites from Hannibal xD


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At first I thought having Clarice there instead of Bedelia would be hard to write but it's surprisingly very easy.
> 
> In case I forgot this story is open for suggestions so if you have any ideas about what Clarice and Hannibal should do to length the chapters and flesh out the story even more then let me know and I'll write it down!

**Antipasto Part 3**

**COCHLEAR GARDEN - DARK (FLASHBACK)**

_A snail moves at a snail's pace across a slick, fleshy surface. It is one snail among dozens. A plump snail feasting on the tip of a human finger. The snails are crawling across the flesh of an arm resting in a pool of wine marinade, also consumed by dozens of snails. Fingers of the living reach down and pluck the plump snail from the fingers of the marinating severed arm._

_Hannibal studying the snail as it crawls across his fingers. He's dressed in a three-piece plaid suit and an apron, harvesting his cochlear garden._  
  
_"Listen." The Cannibal said as he holds his breath for a moment and we hear dozens of little rasp-like tongues chewing on Gideon's severed arm. Gideon is listening, but not as impressed as Hannibal, as it is his flesh the snails are chewing. He sits on a motorized wheelchair. His left arm is missing below the shoulder. The fresh amputation wound is tightly dressed. "They prefer eating in company." Hannibal plucks snails from their moist roosts, collecting them in an elegant glass cylinder. "I've kept cochlear gardens since I was a young man, fattening snails on herbs and vine leaves. Like all of us, what they eat greatly influences and enhances their flavor."_  
  
_"When I'm not eating myself, you wish me to be eating oysters. Drinking sweet wines, snacking on acorns. All to make me tastier?" Gideon asked._  
  
_"Oh yes." Hannibal said then in regards to the snails. "And you are making them tastier."_  
  
_"And I you. Imagine what you must taste like. Won't be long before someone takes a bite out of you." Gideon said._

_Hannibal notes Gideon's tone, "When agitated, sea snails produce a purple dye. Its color won't fade. Becomes brighter with weathering." He paused briefly before adding. "You're becoming brighter, Abel. Dying hasn't dulled you one bit."_

_Gideon politely turns his attention back to the snails and said, "The snails are certainly having a lovely experience, fattened on me in a red-wine marinade. They have no idea they're going to be eaten." He paused and then continued on. "We do."_  
  
**HANNIBAL'S FLORENCE APARTMENT - DINING ROOM - NIGHT**

Clarice sits with Hannibal and Antony Dimmond at the table. She is hiding her fears well, she is eating a salad that has chicken, cranberries and almonds on top with ranch dressing on top next to her was a glass of wine. Hannibal at ease, a platter of meats between him and Dimmond, who enjoys the hospitality, pours himself more wine.  
  
Clarice looked at Antony and asked, "How well do you know the Fells?" She hold a fork in her imperceptibly-trembling hand.  
  
"As well as anybody. Which'd be not really. Lydia a friend of yours?" Antony asked.  
  
"Not really." Clarice said as she took another bite of her salad.  
  
"I'd be surprised to hear she had one. We share a mutual detestation. She disapproves of my disapproval." Antony said.  
  
"What do you disapprove of?" Hannibal asked.  
  
"Roman, mainly. Lydia isn't quite bright enough to see I'm just intimidated. Roman does, of course. How he loves to strike fear." Antony said.  
  
"Dante wrote that fear is almost as bitter as death." Hannibal said.  
  
"Dante wasn't dead when he wrote it." Clarice said as she remembered the story, she hadn't cared for it. Dante was...annoying to her.  
  
"Are you traveling alone, Antony?" Hannibal asked.

The question sends a shudder down Clarice's spine.  
  
"It's the only way I travel." Antony answered.  
  
"Roman is speaking to the Studiolo Friday. On Dante. You should come." Hannibal said.

If Clarice had been chewing, she would have choked.  
  
"Sounds appropriately hellish." Antony said until he clocks Clarice as she takes another bite of her salad. "Are you avoiding meats?"  
  
Clarice gives him a charming sheepish smile and said, "I tend to be picky about what I eat especially with meat of any kind."  
  
"Yes, she absolutely refuses to eat lamb." Hannibal said.

She shot him a look at that before she takes another bite of her salad then she smiled at Antony and said, "I had a bad experience with lambs that had made me unable to hear see or even eat them. And my husband has quite a sophisticated palette. He's particular about how I taste, lamb would make me taste horrible."

Hannibal stares at her as she takes another bite of her salad with a small smirk curling her painted lips. He was surprised that she had even said that, it had taken him a while to get her to tell him about the lambs. Yet here she was telling a stranger a vague reason about why she didn't eat lamb. And the last part of her sentence could be taken in a sexual manner.

Oh, how bold and frank she was getting in his presence.  
  
Antony looked between them, an uncomfortably-long silence growing and then he asked to break it, "Is it that kind of party?"  
  
"It is not that kind of party." Hannibal said.  
  
"No, it really isn't." Clarice said with a smile.  
  
"Shame. You were both suddenly so fascinating." Antony said.

Clarice's lips quirk in amusement before she takes another bite, she bet they were but Hannibal doesn't share.

\----------------------------------------  
  
Dimmond stands in the open doorway, shrugging on his coat as Hannibal and Clarice see him out.  
  
"Buonasera." Antony said.  
  
"Buonasera." Clarice returned with a smile.  
  
"Buonasera." Hannibal closes the door as Dimmond walks away.

A moment, then Clarice looked at him in a curious manner, "You let him go."  
  
"What would you have me do, Clarice?" Hannibal asked.

As Clarice ponders Hannibal's question...

**FLORENCE STREETS - DAY**

Clarice walks down the street, unbeknownst to her Antony Dimmond was also walking the streets. Moving through the crowds, following Clarice.

Clarice moves with purpose, her red hair bouncing with each step that she takes.

Dimmond moves with greater freedom, not a care in the world.

Is he stalking her?

Clarice crosses the street, narrowly avoiding a car that screeches to a halt before it would have run her down.

Dimmond turns to the sound to see Clarice disappearing into Vera Dal 1926.

Navigating her way through the pastas and hams, Clarice approaches the clerk at the counter and said, "Due bottiglie di Bâtard-Montrachet e li tartufi bianchi, per favore." Once again she felt a thrill of pride and happiness go through her when she pronounced it correctly.

As the clerk prepares the order, Antony strides across the grocery store, directly toward Clarice who saw him approach from the corner of her eye but she doesn't look at him.  
  
"Florentines say Vera dal, with its wealth of cheeses and truffles, smells like the feet of God." Antony said.

She resisted making a disgusted face at that, she hadn't wanted to know that. Feet from anyone was disgusting.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Dimmond." Clarice greeted him without looking at him as she waited for her order.  
  
"I don't know if it's you, me or God, but there's something in the air." Antony said.

The clerk hands Clarice her bag.  
  
Clarice smiled at the clerk and said, "Grazie."  
  
"Dinner was lovely. I must confess to a certain abstract curiosity about your husband...Mrs. Fell." Antony said.  
  
Clarice stares at him, then she said, "Good-bye, Mr. Dimmond." She takes the bag and exits. Dimmond follows.  
  
Clarice walks out of Vera dal 1926 as Dimmond stands in the doorway behind her, watching her go a moment, then he said, "I asked one of the scholars at the Palazzo to point me in the direction of Dr. Fell. He raised one craggy old finger and pointed it directly at your husband. I thought the old codger made a mistake, but there was no mistake." Clarice keeps walking, wanting to lose him. Dimmond quickened his pace to catch up, the young woman lets out a soft huff of annoyance. "Even in the teeth of evidence, you're just going to walk away."  
  
"Those aren't the teeth you should be concerned about." Clarice said as she tries to control the tremble building inside her.  
  
"Where are Roman and Lydia?" Antony asked.  
  
"I don't know." Clarice answered.  
  
"Does your husband know?" Antony asked.  
  
"He's not my husband. He is something entirely Other." Clarice said as she walked, there was no coldness in her tone but it wasn't exactly warm. She had no idea what she was to Hannibal, was she a loved one or was she a future meal?

She knew that she would eventually have to ask him but that would probably end up going in a direction that she didn't want to go in. The Cannibal had ways to get her to spill her darkest secrets to him.

Like he had done with the lambs and her father.  
  
"The man is curating an exposition of Atrocious Torture Instruments." Antony said.  
  
"The essence of the worst of the human spirit is not found in the iron maiden or the whetted edge. Elemental ugliness, Mr. Dimmond, is found in the faces of the crowd." Clarice said as she crossed the street. "However you think you're going to manipulate this situation to your advantage, think again." Hannibal was always one step ahead of everyone else and manipulating them. Clarice would like to think that she wasn't being manipulated but she honestly didn't know.  
  
"Bluebeard's wife. Secrets you're not to know, yet sworn to keep." Antony said as he looked at her.  
  
"If I'm to be Bluebeard's wife, I would prefer to be the last one." Clarice said, not liking that comparison at all. Bluebeard had killed all but his last wife and she preferred to think herself as the last one. Surviving to live another day and to get married to a nice man. Unless you believed that the nice man was a cannibalistic serial killer. "Unless you believe you are beyond harm, go to the police."  
  
"You want to be caught." Antony said.

Clarice stopped walking and looked at him, "Maybe...I don't know." Her tone was confused and sad, she wanted to ask him for his help but did she really want to leave Hannibal and put him in prison? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> He didn't feed Clarice the same food he feed Bedelia, remember that he is in love with her...also did I ever write down that Hannibal has admitted to be in love with Clarice in my previous stories? I can't remember xD
> 
> Also Clarice is confused, she doesn't know where she stands with Hannibal and her own feelings for him tends to bounce around a lot.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe next chapter will get a love confession? Like she just blurts out because she's afraid if you have seen the episode, you'll understand :D

**Antipasto Part 4**   


**HANNIBAL'S FLORENCE APARTMENT-DAY**

Two figures were swaying in their living room, Dean Martin's _Sway_ was playing in the background, Hannibal wore only a dress shirt and black slacks while Clarice only wore a white men's dress shirt that barely hit the top of her thighs, she had changed when she got home after her little chat with Dimmond. Her eyes were closed and she hummed softly along side the song that was playing in their room, he was resting his cheek against the top of her head as they swayed to the song.

The Cannibal had a hand on her waist and holding her left hand, the trainee had her arm loosely around his neck which caused their bodies to be pressed together intimately, like actual lovers.

Not the pretend ones that they pretended to be.

She felt the man shift, turning his head to place a chaste kiss on top of her head before he once more rested his cheek on her head. She heard him take a deep breathe, taking in her scent. She opened her eyes and smiled softly.

"You know, Dr. Lecter, if no one knew you like I do they would think that you had some sort of smell kink."

Hannibal pulled back enough so that he can look at her.

"Hannibal, Clarice, and I like your scent." Hannibal said with a charming smile.

Blue eyes narrowed slightly before blinking and losing their ice, Clarice Starling didn't like it when he tried to use his charm on her. It made her feel like he was using her like he did with Alana Bloom.

She frowned at that memory and shook her head to clear it from her mind as Hannibal once more rested his cheek against her head.

It won't work on her like it did on Alana, Clarice wasn't blinded to his true nature like she had been. Will had taught her that and she had listened to her instincts, using the ability that she had been born with.

Her intelligent mind.

"What are you thinking about, Clarice?" Hannibal's voice seemed to go through her, probably because of the fact that the side of her face is pressed against his chest.

"....Will." Clarice murmured going for a half truth.

He didn't show any outward reaction to the mention of Will expect of the slightly tightening of his hold on her.

"Shhh, calm down." Clarice murmured, not wanting him to hunt the other man down. There were times like this that made her think that he was in love with her but maybe it was just wishful thinking on her part. "I was just thinking about how well he taught me."

The Cannibal's hold on her relaxed, a little.

They lapsed into silence as they swayed, Hannibal being careful not to step on Clarice's toes since she was bare footed. She sighed softly as she gripped his shirt lightly as she started to hum again.

"You like this song." Hannibal murmured.

Clarice hummed in answer but then she moved her head to look at him.

"...I have this faint memory of my dad listening to Dean Martin." Clarice said. "He used to dance with me every time this song came up, of course I would have to stand on his feet."

"You haven't talked about your father in a while." Hannibal said. "Except to mention him in passing."

"It still hurts." Clarice admitted after lapsing into a thoughtful silence. "Every Father's Day is a cruel reminder that I don't have him anymore."

"And Mother's Day as well." Hannibal said.

Clarice is silent for a few seconds before she said, "Yeah...and Mother's Day."

"You don't do anything for your adopted parents?"

"Oh, I do after all if it wasn't for them I would still be in that orphanage." Clarice said. "I try to get them something special as a thank you."

Hannibal raised the hand that was on her waist and gently touched her cheek, as he stared at her.

She frowned and asked, "What?"  

"Nothing..." Hannibal said as he lightly ran his thumb over her bottom lip.

Clarice's eyes scanned his face before she released his hand and wrapped her other arm other his neck, pressing herself even more against him causing Hannibal to place his now free hand on her waist. Her head was tilted back as she stared at him, it was only fair since he was staring at her.

He lowered his hand and placed it on her waist as they kept swaying even as the song came to an end.

 **PALAZZO CAPPONI - SALON - NIGHT**

Clarice is beautifully coiffed and elegantly dressed. She sits among the “dragons” of the Studiolo, dozens of the most renowned medieval and Renaissance scholars in the world. They sit in rows of folding chairs, surrounded by dozens of torture instruments, all in various states of restoration.  
  
"In accord with my own taste for the pre-Renaissance..." Hannibal said. The slant of light over her head projects an image on a large drop cloth suspended from the ceiling like a screen. An illustration of Satan, his three faces, half-immersed in ice, chewing on Brutus, Cassius and Judas Iscariot, while weeping. Hannibal is a dark figure pacing the aisles as he speaks. "...I present the case of Pietro della Vigna, whose treachery earned him a place in Dante’s Hell." He steps into the light, in front of the illustration of Satan, its horns peeking out from behind his head. "He was disgraced and blinded for betraying his emperor’s trust." He presses the switch in his palm and the illustration behind him is now depicting Dante's nine levels of Hell. "Dante’s pilgrim finds him in the seventh level of the Inferno, reserved for suicides. Like Judas Iscariot, he died by hanging." 

Hannibal paces the aisle, slowly approaching Clarice. "Judas and Pietro della Vigna are linked in Dante’s Inferno." Hannibal places a gentle hand on Clarice’s shoulder who looks up at him and gives him a doting smile of a wife that was proud and loved her husband. "Betrayal and hanging, then, linked since antiquity, the image appearing again and again in art." An art slide appears on the drop cloth. Hannibal begins pacing again, taking his hand off Clarice’s shoulder but not before he gently tugged her pearl dangling earring. "This is the earliest-known depiction of the Crucifixion, carved on an ivory box in Gaul about A.D. four hundred. It includes the death by hanging of Judas, his face upturned to the branch that suspends him." 

Antony Dimmond quietly listening to Hannibal’s lecture from the back of the room. "On the doors of the Benevento Cathedral, we see Judas hanging with his bowels falling out." Hannibal squeezes the remote and another slide appears. "And here, from a fifteenth-century edition of The Inferno, is Pietro della Vigna’s body hanging from a bleeding tree. I won’t belabor the parallels with Judas Iscariot."  
  
Clarice's eyes wander until they find Mr. Dimmond listening  intently. Her face goes slack, she had no idea why he was here but then she remembered that Hannibal had invited him.   
  
"Betrayal, hanging, self-destruction." Hannibal said as he moves away from his wife . "Io fei gibetto a me de le mie case which means in English  “I make my own home be my gallows”." Clarice  averts her eyes just as Hannibal notices Dimmond. His composure only falters for a brief moment before he says to the man. "Mr. Dimmond. Welcome. Please join us. We were just about to discuss the matter of chewing in Dante." 

Dimmond smiles politely, then takes a seat. Hannibal glances at Clarice, but her chair is now vacant. He has a brief flash of concern for her, was she sick? He hoped not, he had been hoping to take her out for dinner when they were done here.

Maybe she had forgotten something back at the apartment?

\-----------------

Clarice hurries away from Hannibal’s presentation as applause erupts from the Studiolo, she felt sick. Her stomach was knotting and she felt warm, she could feel sweat forming underneath her clothes.

And she had no idea why she was feeling that way, she didn't eat anything that she was allergic to.

Was this guilt? Because she had spoken to Dimmond and the man was probably going to die?

\-------------

The dry-yet-enthusiastic applause trickles to a stop as Hannibal nods his thanks to the Studiolo as they stand and filter out of the hall.  
  
"Thank you for your kind attention." Hannibal said. 

Sogliato is gathering his belongings as Hannibal approaches and asked, "Would you say I secured my position, Professor Sogliato?"  
  
"The Studiolo seems satisfied." Sogliato admitted.  

Dimmond waltzes up, joining Hannibal and Sogliato.  
  
"Satisfied? That applause was  downright enthusiastic in its soft  and dusty way." Antony said.   
  
"Dottor Fell is a friend of yours?" Sogliato asked.   
  
"I’ve only known him a short time. Still, the tales I could tell." Antony said.   
  
"Please do." Sogliato said.   
  
"What kind of friend would I be?" Antony asked.   
  
"What kind of friend, indeed." Sogliato said, he then looked at Hannibal. "Dottore." Without another word, Sogliato moves off, suppressing an eye roll, joining the Studiolo as they exit. Dimmond eyes the various torture instruments surrounding them.   
  
"An exposition of Atrocious Torture Instruments appeals to connoisseurs of the very worst in mankind." Antony said.   
  
"Now that ceaseless exposure has calloused us to the lewd and the vulgar, it is instructive to see  what still seems wicked to us." Hannibal said.   
  
"What still slaps the clammy flab of  our submissive consciousness hard  enough to get our attention?" Antony said.   
  
"What wickedness has your attention, Mr. Dimmond?" Hannibal asked. 

Hannibal and Dimmond circle a breaking wheel as they assess each other’s intentions.  
  
"Yours, “Dr. Fell.” I have no  delusions of morality; if I had, I would’ve gone to la polizia." Antony said. "I’m curious what fate befell Dr. Fell to see you here in his stead." 

Hannibal studies Mr. Dimmond a moment, then he said, "You may have to strap me to the breaking wheel to loosen my tongue."  
  
"No torture was required to loosen your wife/not-your-wife’s tongue." Antony said, he added when he noticed Hannibal's look. "She sounded confused, like she didn't know if she should have said something or not ."   
  
"Yes, she's young and is not used to this life." Hannibal said.   
  
"We can twist ourselves into all manner of uncomfortable positions just to maintain appearances, with or without a breaking wheel." Antony said.   
  
"Are you here to twist me into an uncomfortable position?" Hannibal asked.   
  
"I’m here to help you untwist... to our mutual benefit." Antony answered with smile. 

**HANNIBAL’S FLORENCE APARTMENT- NIGHT**   
  
Clarice is cleaning up after her mad dash to the bathroom, her purse in her hand while coat was draped over her arm when the door opens, drawing her attention to it, and Hannibal ushers Antony inside. The latter  averts his eyes away from Clarice’s gaze before she moved them to Hannibal who had an unreadable look on his face. 

Hannibal slowly shuts the door on anyone’s escape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Antony pretty much handed Hannibal his harpy and the recipe of how to cook him xD


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love Confession but Hannibal thinks she's trying to save Dimmond's life

**Antipasto Part 5**

**HANNIBAL’S FLORENCE APARTMENT - NIGHT**

Dimmond and Clarice share looks before they both look at Hannibal when the sound of a door being locked. She snapped out of her surprise and fear when she sees Hannibal pull out his harpy.

And she knew that she would have to at least try to save Dimmond.

"Please, let him go." Clarice said as she stepped around Dimmond and walked over to Hannibal, her hand slowly reaching out to wrap her fingers around the wrist that held the knife. "We are supposed to be lying low."

Hannibal smiles before he reaches up and gently cups her cheek, his thumb brushing her cheekbone, "And we will but he threatens that peace." He stooped down to press a gentle kiss on her lips but Clarice is still tense, she doesn't know where she truly stands with him.

Will he harm her? Will he kill her?

The Cannibal straightens and steps around her to dispatch Dimmond but Clarice spins around and grabs his arm, Hannibal looked at her with a blank look on his face.

"I love you so please don't do this." Clarice blurted out the first thing that came to her mind and she instantly regretted it, this wasn't how she was going to confess to him.

He stares down at her silently before he reaches and grabs her chin, Clarice wincing at the tight and firm hold that he had on her chin. While his face was a mask, his hold on her chin told her that he was angry and annoyed.

"Do you mean that? Or are you just trying to save his life?"

Clarice narrowed her eyes at him, not liking the fact that he doubts her feelings but she could see why he'd ask that. 

But he doesn't let her respond, he releases her and gently removes her hand from his arm before he walks over to Dimmond who was watching the two with a fearful look on his face.

Clarice takes a deep breath but keeps her eyes open as Hannibal brutally and efficiently dispatches Antony to the afterlife. Clarice is unflinching despite jagged breaths rattling at the back of her throat. Hannibal stands over Dimmond’s corpse.

"Your confession didn't save his life, Clarice."

Clarice narrowed her eyes and raise her chin, fighting to keep calm and not show fear, "We are supposed to be lying low, you killing him will draw attention to you."

"I'm sure that it will but if they come for you what will you tell them? You were drugged or Stockholm Syndrome set in during your time with me?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead." Clarice snapped, bristling.  
  
The corners of Hannibal’s lips curl ever so slightly, appreciating her bite despite the fear that he could smell coming from her.

"Then you better start thinking about it while I take care of Mr. Dimmond." Hannibal said as he leans over Dimmond’s broken corpse.

Clarice clenched her jaw and asked, "You don't believe that I love you?"

"...People will say anything to get someone to stop what they view is morally bad." Hannibal calmly stated.

She stared at him silently before she turned on her heel and walked into their bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her and sitting down on the bed covering her face with her hands as the tears started to fall.

She was afraid, she was afraid that she was changing and that she won't be the same when she returns to the States.  
  
**FLORENCE TRAIN STATION - PLATFORM - DAY**

Hannibal is behind the two porters and the trunk en route to the awaiting train car. Dressed in an elegant travel coat, he strikes a dashing figure as he boards the train. Clarice was back at their apartment, she had been quiet and forlorn while she saw Hannibal off. He knew she wouldn't run off, while she could speak the language she couldn't read it and wouldn't know how to get to the airport.

That and she didn't know Florence as well as he did so she would get lost, and he would have to find her and kill anyone who tries to harm her.

He doubted she truly meant her declaration of love, she was trying to save Dimmond from being killed but it had backfired on her. Though he did hope that he didn't traumatize her too much, that her silence and forlorn appearance would be the only reaction she would have around him.

The Cannibal wanted her to love him for himself, that she would never ask him 'if you loved me, would you stop?' because she would love all of him. The good and the bad, and wouldn't want him to change.   
  
Hannibal walks into a private compartment that he'll be sharing with his steamer trunk, he sat down and his gaze drifts to the window as the stunning Italian landscape blurs past...

**_Snails topple into a hot pan, a brandy flambé erupts around them. As the fire starts to fade, a shower of white wine douses the flame._ **

**_A large African snail shell, the tiny snails from the cochlear garden are tumbling out onto the dinner table, beautifully cooked._ **

**_Hannibal and Gideon at the table, flanking the large snail shell. Surrounding the mouth of the shell are various oysters in the half-shell._ **  
  
**_"Would you rather I extended you the same kindness as the escargot?" Hannibal asked._ **  
  
**_"Eating me without my knowledge? I find knowing to be much more powerful than not knowing. Why do you think I'm allowing this?" Gideon asked, his tone biting._ **

**_Hannibal studies his dinner companion, appreciating his bite, "Why do you think I'm allowing this?"_ **  
  
**_"Snails aren't the only creatures who prefer to eat in company." Gideon said as he forks a snail in its shell, which is secured decoratively so he can use one arm, and pops it in his mouth. "I'm fascinated to know how you will feel when all this... happens to you."_ **

**NORMAN CHAPEL - DAWN**

The Normal Chapel is ornate, inspiring and severe. Morning light glances down from the stained-glass windows, casting colored pools and dense shadows. Down the aisles between the rows of pews and a gargantuan human heart --not the organ itself, but a representation, skillfully molded from the corpse of Antony Dimmond. The torso is tucked into a fetal position, hands and feet have been cut off mid-forearm/mid-shin. The arms and legs broken and bent to mimic the ventricles and aorta. Dimmond’s head has been removed.

The dark red blood streaking the body and the pallor of the dead skin create the purplish hues of a recently-removed organ. The “heart” is pierced by three swords pushed through the body at angles, to both secure the organic sculpture in place and provide a tripod to lift it from the ground. It almost appears to be a horrifying brazier awaiting flame.

As the sun rises, the multicolored shafts of light beaming through the stained-glass windows spotlight Hannibal’s creation in all its glory...

The tableau, placed amid the gorgeous light, in a monument to God and man’s adulation of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Clarice, she confesses and he doesn't believe her.
> 
> Thinking about doing one or two crossover with Hannibal, Poral and Charlie Countryman with Hannibal, Duncan and Nigel all vying for Clarice. One of the crossovers will have it that Clarice doesn't go with Hannibal but she and Hannibal do sleep together and she's pregnant with the Cannibal's baby.

**Author's Note:**

> The story where Hannibal is a sixteen year old Clarice Starling's therapist will be called 'Hell On An Angel' and the other one that is similar to this one (there'll be changes to it but you'll have to wait and see) will be called 'The Devil Don't Sleep', both songs are by Brantley Gilbert. Listen to the songs and tell me what you think!


End file.
